


It's Been A While

by orphan_account



Category: Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - Mark Twain, Adventures of Tom Sawyer - Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Neck Kissing, Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 04:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17297462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "How long you been living here, Tom?""Somewhere around three years, I reckon. I lived in a boarding house for a year or two...And what're you doing in Wisconsin, Hucky?""Heard about a job at a quarry around here. We both know I don’t need the money--I already got more’n ‘nuff, it ain't nothing but a waste--but I like to keep my hands busy.""We both know you can’t stand sitting in one place for long, neither."





	It's Been A While

**Author's Note:**

> Both men are nearing their thirties in this fic. Needless to say, they're significantly aged up.  
> It's been almost five years since I last published anything for this fandom.  
> I return with a pornlet. Happy belated New Year.

The door slams open and shut as they stumble through.

_How long you been living here, Tom?_

Tom toes his shoes off first near the door, and once he gives Huck a small look of reprimand, he follows suit. “You can hang your coat up there,” Tom says, nodding towards the rack. Huck relieves himself of his frock coat--that appears fairly new and untattered, Tom doesn’t fail to notice--washed over in light with the mild glow of the kerosene lamp, and does as directed.

_Somewhere around three years, I reckon. I lived in a boarding house for a year or two._

For the most part, Wisconsin had been good to him thus far. He dragged Huck by the hand through the small kitchen, then through the living room and around the hearth of the fireplace. They traveled down a narrow hallway, and finally, they arrived to his room. Inside, there was nothing but a nightstand with a stack of books on top, a chest of drawers, and a simple bed with white sheets and a wooden frame, just barely large enough for two.

_And what’re you doing in Wisconsin, Hucky?_

He’d spent some of his money on the place, money Judge Thatcher had held for him and raised interest on until he came of age. He’d spent some more he’d earned as a reporter for a newspaper on the furnishings. He still has the job, and it’s treating him just as well.

_Heard about a job at a quarry around here. We both know I don’t need the money--I already got more’n ‘nuff, it ain't nothing but a waste--but I like to keep my hands busy._

Before he left home, he promised his aunt--promised her and swore up and down before she scolded him for that, swearing--that he wouldn’t go spending all of his money, that he’d save as much as he possibly could, so that when the time came that he had to support a woman and settle down with her, they wouldn’t be left wanting. That time hasn’t arrived--not yet.

_We both know you can’t stand sitting in one place for long, neither._

Huck ambles into the room first, having been propelled forward by Tom’s gently shoving hands. He peers around, intrigued, eyes sweeping across each individual piece of furniture. Then he turns around and faces Tom, who is slowly gravitating towards him with even steps.

“I’m gonna put the bulliest wallpaper up soon enough,” Tom vows to no one but himself. He takes another step forward, and then another, until the gap between them is bridged. Tom’s breath lightly fans over Huck’s face as he whispers, “This place is gonna look just grand once I set my mind to fixing it up.”

Listening to Tom rattle off about his ambitions again, no matter how run-of-the-mill they may seem, Huck finds a smile making its way onto his face. “Why hain’t you done it yet? You been here for a year, Tom.”

“The work’s boring as hell,” Tom easily supplies, and after staring at Huck’s face up close, he notices a small nick on his chin. His hands raise to cup Huck’s cheeks, thumb gently brushing over the small wound and the light stubble growing over his face. “What’s this, huh?”

“I--Well, I actually been here most of yesterday,” Huck confesses, appearing almost self-conscious with the disclosure. He smiles shyly and shrugs. “I heard ‘bout you, in the paper. Tried to, uh…give myself a shave, before coming to see you.”

“You got rid of your scraggly old beard?” _For me?_ Tom is beaming with the question, heart doing somersaults in his chest. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t moved by the gesture. “By the looks of it, I bet I could count the times you touched a razor on one hand, Hucky.” He looks at the graze as though endeared by it, and then presses a small kiss to it. When he pulls back, the two of them stare at one another silently, their soft breathing mingling in the air.

Tom takes Huck’s hand again and leads him over towards the bed.

“Tom, I-I might mess up your sheets--well, they’re so white and clean and lovely right now, and my clothes ain’t--I tried my hardest to wash ‘em before I come, but--”

“They ain’t bad, ya scaredy cat,” Tom interjects, and then they are plopping down onto the edge of the bed together in a tangle of arms. “You won’t be needing ‘em soon anyhow,” he purrs, voice gravelly, but the questionable face Huck makes at this causes Tom to hesitate. Hoping that he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels, he scrunches his mouth in a small frown. “You _do_ want to…don’t you?”

Huck winces, looking all but lost in thought.

Tom’s shoulders sag and he furrows his brows. “No…? Honey, why didn’t you just say so? I could’ve taken you to town or something--”

“What? Oh, no, I--Dad fetch it, Tom, wait a moment. I think I’m sitting on something.” He rises from the bed and inspects the spot where he’d been sitting, surprised to find a lump beneath the sheets. He peels them back, only to see a ball of twine lying on the mattress. He picks it up and rolls it in his hand curiously. “What do you got string under your sheets for, Tom?

“Oh!” Tom clicks his tongue and erupts into infectious laughter. “I find a little kitten walking around downtown. She’s so tiny, poor thing, could’ve got run over in the streets. Her ma weren’t around, so I took her home. I reckon she could play with string forever, if I let her.”

The moment the word ‘kitten’ leaves Tom’s mouth and Huck’s eyes light up with a giddy, childish glow is coincident. “Oh, you have a kitten, Tom? Truly?”

“Don’t you even think about it, Huck Finn,” Tom overlaps, shaking his head. “I was lucky enough we missed her on our way up here. If you saw her we’d never have made it.”

Huck smirks and juggles the ball of twine in his hand. “I wouldn’t’ve played with her, not that long,” he assures, not very convincingly. “Besides, what’s her name?”

“Ginger, and I can’t have her stealing you away from me tonight.” Tom laughs, leans in and rests his head against Huck’s shoulder as he looks down thoughtlessly at the ball of twine. He takes it from Huck’s hand and places it on the nightstand. Once their laughter dies down, Tom presses his lips against Huck’s neck, listening intently as his breath hitches in his throat. He whispers, breath tickling Huck’s ear, “So…?”

Huck shivers and smiles furtively. “I suppose I’d like to,” he says, noticing the way Tom’s grin widens. Pink-faced, he turns his head so that their noses graze against each other clumsily, and chuckles. They lean into one another for the waiting kiss, lips finally connecting in a gentle haze of desire, soft and long and slow. They do not speed along in a flurry of excitement, but instead savor each second, as if to make up for all the lost time in between.

Tom giggles into Huck’s mouth and backs away, only momentarily. “You always kissed so damn good, and I never understood how in God’s name you got that way.”

Huck merely shrugs, and the expression accompanied with the gesture is so sincerely oblivious, Tom wants to laugh again. Instead, he clambers atop Huck’s lap, fingers weaving behind his neck, knees touching the sides of his legs. Huck hugs Tom’s body closer to his, and they resume lazily kissing, mouths warm and hands pressed against the other’s skin. It goes on like this only for a little while longer, neither feeling the need to hurry, until a minute or so has passed.

A muffled groan slips past Tom’s lips and onto Huck’s, notably louder than the rest, and they come apart, pausing to breathe. Tom decides then that they’ve been dancing around unspoken plans for long enough, and he takes Huck’s face into his hands. His eyes flit down to Huck’s parted lips, and he blinks, as if trying to recollect his thoughts before finding where he’d left off last. Their gazes meet again before Tom utters the words.

“I want you…to take me.”

“Lord’s _sake_ , Tom,” Huck blurts, cheeks growing even more flushed with this request, if possible. The faltering expression on his face would have suggested a piece of meat had just been dangled in front of his face and he is going through agony staving off the urge to just do what he’s been invited to do, take it, as though it would somehow be ungentlemanly of him. Funnily enough, the only times Tom could ever remember seeing the notoriously mannerless Huck Finn bother to act like a gentleman were generally around women, and around…well, another man in bed, namely Tom.

“It’s…!” Tom takes a moment to swallow his spit, blink a few times, and let out a small moan from between his teeth. “It’s alright, honey, I just said I want you to.”

“Tom, I-I don’t--You sure?” His grasp on Tom’s hips tightens and then weakens, as if he cannot decide whether he wants to hold on like he’s Huck’s lifeline or if he should let go altogether. But then Tom places his hands over Huck’s and presses down, makes Huck’s fingertips dig into the meaty padding of his hips, and that seems like a good enough answer enough for Huck.

“‘Course I am…What sorta question is that?” Tom enthuses. He rolls his hips down just a little harder, grinds down while chewing on his bottom lip, and Huck has to bury his face in Tom’s chest to muffle the small, embarrassing squeak that rises from his throat. Tom cannot control himself. He dissolves into laughter, feeling almost love-drunk, and tenderly weaves his fingers through Huck’s hair. “You was always so damn _cute_ , Hucky.” His voice pitches up an octave with that sickeningly sweet pet name dripping from his lips like honey, coming out as a breathy, pleading sort of drawl. What a teasing bastard he still is.

Huck raises his head and glowers up at him, appearing almost laughably flustered. “Tom, you stop it with that sappy truck and just--lemme do it! Stop teasing me so!”

In spite of Tom having sweet talked him not a minute previous, he immediately bristles, face still flushed, knees still pressed up against Huck’s sides. Leave it to him to still not understand all the “sappy truck” that leads up to fucking after all this time.

“That’s only what I been trying to get you to do all this time, so _do_ it, why don’t you!”

“I am, damn it…! If I was always cute, you was never a patient thing.”

A brief, stubborn lull settles before Tom finally concedes, “Fair ‘nuff,” and then he’s leaning forward and crashing his lips against Huck’s with an almost animalistic fury, just to prove that, indeed, Huck may just be right. Perhaps Tom’s always been impatient, and now he’s growing absolutely restless, because all he wants is to be touched all over and he can’t wait a minute longer. With this, any grunt of surprise Huck may emit is needily drunk up by Tom’s kissing mouth. There, they’ve reconciled their small spat with this wordless admittance and, well, all there is to do now is move forward, isn’t there?

They’re not fumbling, clueless teenagers anymore, that is for sure. They’re grown men, and if they become impatient with one another every now and then and bicker like an old married couple right in the middle of sex, who is around to judge anyway?

When they break apart for a brief moment to catch their breaths, panting raggedly against the other’s face, Huck chuckles in a throaty sort of way that makes the blood stir between Tom’s legs. “You’re…real excited,” he observes, amused.

“Like you ain’t,” Tom laughs right back in his face, and they smile at one another suggestively before Tom’s fingers are flying to hastily unbutton his shirt. He slips it off and tosses it somewhere besides the bed, Huck watching all the while in a sort of dazed ecstacy, Tom absolutely loving that Huck is watching his every move with such undivided attention. He grins eagerly up at him, and then rests his hands against the sliver of bare tanned skin visible from the top few undone buttons of his shirt, fingers tracing fondly over the small tickle of hair on Huck’s chest.

“It’s been a while,” he reflects quietly, beginning to unbutton the rest with clumsy speed.

“I know,” Huck concurs, and, somewhat awkwardly, sheds his shirt from his body and throws it over the side to join Tom’s on the floor.

While Tom sets to work undoing the buttons on Huck’s trousers, eyes remaining fixated on the bulge that strains against the fabric, he begins to talk: “Can’t wait to get you outta these damned things…You know, I hain’t ever understood a woman’s clothes before. They’re all so gaudy and lovely and a woman, she looks just splendid in ‘em, but when all you wanna do, is do it, it ain’t nothing but a hassle to get her out of. She’s got that stupid corset thing, and it’s knotted up something awful in the back, and--”

“Corset?”

“It’s part of a lady’s underthings, Huck.”

“Why are you talking about a blamed thing like a lady’s breeches right now, Tom?”

“Those ain’t…Oh, shut up. I was only thinking out loud.”

When their short dialogue has come to an end, both of them are naked, save for their drawers, breath hanging heavy on their kiss-bitten lips. Then, Huck leans forward and begins pressing his own against Tom’s neck, soft and slow. His throat jumps beneath Huck’s mouth, bare and pale, just begging to be covered in bruises. Tom’s arms wrap themselves around Huck and slowly rise up around his neck. He hugs Huck closer, as close as he can get without making moving awkward, and Tom’s mouth gradually curves upward into a gentle, involuntary smile, the way it always does whenever the two of them do this sort of thing, like he’s dreaming, or he’s in love, or he can’t get enough.

“I been wondering lately…when I’d see you again,” admits Tom in a low voice, staring up at the ceiling.

“Really?” Huck asks, tipping his head back.

Tom hums his assent. “Why’s that so hard to believe?”

Huck does not linger on the subject any longer. His lips continue slowly inching their way over Tom’s skin in a flurry of kisses, and Tom moans sweetly, Adam’s apple bobbing underneath Huck’s mouth.

“Hold on just a moment,” Tom murmurs suddenly, and Huck’s lips break away just long enough for Tom to scramble back on the bed, lean against the wall and grab the bottle of lamp oil from the drawer in the nightstand. He hands it over to Huck expectantly, a heated glint in his eye. “You wanna do me the honors?” he chuckles.

Huck swallows thickly, lump in his throat working, dick twitching in his drawers just at the request. He pushes the hair from his face and nods, making an effort to not look over excited at the offer. He’s certain he’s failing, and that Tom is probably loving it. “A-Alright.”

Lastly, Tom raises his ass so he can slip out of his drawers, and with this, his rigid cock bounces up towards his belly. He huffs out a low groan with this, and Huck feels the urge arise to join him, just watching.

Tom nods down towards Huck’s lower half. “Well?”

“Oh.” He nods. He feels so entranced staring at Tom he nearly forgets himself.

Huck follows the motions as well, and he thinks he could let out a sigh of relief once he’s out of his drawers and the same wet hardness springs free. Maybe he actually does without realizing it, because Tom’s smile grows just a little wider, a little more awestruck.

Huck uncorks the bottle, lets the thick oil slip over his fingers, and doesn’t have to wait for Tom to coax him: “Go on, do it.”

His fingers, coated with the greasy substance, reach over, grazing against Tom’s treasure trail, before finally, _finally_ wrapping around his length, slick with oil and precome. Huck relishes in the shudder his touch elicits from him, the way his breath catches in his throat. He begins to pump it, not too fast, teasingly, and Tom tosses his head back and lets out a soft groan.

“I-I missed you,” Huck stammers, sounding like he’s been waiting to tell him this for years--and so what if he really has?--fingers trembling over Tom’s engorged cock, eyes fluttering. He closes the short distance between them, nestling close in between Tom’s legs, and presses their mouths together again. The sounds they make--deep and wet and breathy, shamelessly loud--they could drive a man insane. His thumb moves in slow circles over the head of Tom’s cock, swirling precome gently over the slit, sensitive and tantalizing.

“I missed you…too,” Tom sighs shakily into his mouth once they’ve stopped kissing enough to utter the words, noses bumping lightly together in their careless excitement. His hips move to their own accord, thrusting up to eagerly meet Huck’s every stroke. When Huck shifts around on the bed to find a more agreeable position, the wooden frame creaking noisily beneath them, his dick brushes against Tom’s inner thigh, and Tom realizes how hard it is, how it’s leaking and flushed such a lovely pink. It needily pulses at the slightest caress and remains barely touched still. This bothers him, needless to say.

Though it grieves him somewhat to do so, he swats Huck’s hand away from him and pays no mind to the expression of slight surprise and disappointment on Huck’s face. He would have come soon if the stimulation hadn’t stopped anyway, and Tom doesn’t want to climax, not yet. He spreads his thighs open wider, slumps over so that he’s pressed up closer to Huck’s body, and takes the bottle of oil so that he can dole out more onto his fingers. “Do it, won’t you? This way we’ll both be getting what we want soon enough.” He proceeds to grumble in exasperation, both to himself and Huck, “Landsakes. I never see a body who ignored his own self as you do, Huck. Go on.”

Huck immediately understands and, in spite of his initial uncertainty, nods with enthusiasm. It isn’t until then that he realizes how badly he just wants to be _inside_ , erect cock or no. Fingers will do for now. “I’ll do it real slow. You tell me if you hurt.”

“Huck.”

“Alright.”

And then his fingers are slowly finding their way to Tom’s ass, hands cupping his cheeks and nails sinking into the skin indulgently, before his digits lightly press into his cleft. He hasn’t even begun yet, but this doesn’t stop Tom from becoming utterly boneless at his touch, brows knotting and wet lips parting in expectant bliss.

Huck’s finger circles the entrance carefully. “Just one for now.”

Tom nods vigorously, head bobbing so fast he threatens to make himself dizzy. His fingers twitch around the sheets bunched in his fists.

Huck’s finger glides in smoothly with the oil, and he shudders when the warm muscles contract around him with the sudden entry. He feels around, searching for that hidden little bump and feeling a rush of unbridled lust travel throughout him when he finally does. He begins to massage it, tediously slow at first, and Tom starts with a small gasp, mouth twisting into a pleased smile.

“Oh…Lord, Huck,” he moans shamelessly, biting down on his bottom lip. His hand automatically flies back down to his dick, where he begins fucking his tight fist. “You’ve got it.”

Huck swallows and nods.

“ _Shit_ …Faster.”

He complies without a word, beginning to work at a quicker pace, and the sounds it forces from Tom’s mouth are glorious, overwhelmingly so, sending shivers rolling down Huck’s spine. He shuts his eyes for a moment, ruts his hips against Tom’s leg a couple of times, and when he opens them again, Tom is staring longingly at him with his own, clouded over with something that looks like rapture. _I want you so badly,_ they say, and Huck releases a quavering sigh gazing back into them.

He stops and allows the wonderful sight of Tom stroking his swollen cock to set in before he realizes it isn’t exactly what he wants. “Wait, Tom.”

“What?” asks Tom, voice unsteady.

“…Don’t touch yourself. Not yet.”

Tom eyes him pettishly, almost like a child who has just been told they are to be stripped of all their playthings.

“Reckon you can do that?”

“...Alright, fine. Fine, just…” Tom mutters weakly, and Huck has to quickly subdue the slight surprise that he would obey such a demanding request without question. Then that probably means the thought is just as arousing to Tom as it is to him. Thank heavens. “H-Hurry and put in another.”

Of course, Huck does. With two fingers sheathed deep inside, he brings his lips to Tom’s bare chest, dusting needy kisses across the pallid surface and sucking, leaving a number of not-yet-formed bruises in his wake, stubble scraping over the sensitive skin. Then his mouth flits up and over until his teeth latch onto Tom’s collar bone. His free hand reaches up and toys gently with a pink nipple, and Tom begins to writhe beneath him, becoming entirely restless.

“ _Ahh!_ Huck, I…” He curses beneath his breath, and hums out a deep moan that Huck just knows purposely sounds as lewd as possible. “I-I can’t, damn it, I _need_ to--“

“Bear it just a little while longer,” Huck implores, breath balmy against Tom’s skin, and he raises his head to plant his lips against Tom’s. His tongue inches out, curling around Tom’s, and the way he nearly squeaks into Huck’s mouth seems just too good to be true. By the time they come apart, breathless and shaking, Huck has three fingers inside of him, working within him at a sloppy, albeit perfect pace.

“…S-Stop.”

And that’s when Huck’s fingers cease, and his lips and tongue as well. He feels like his heart is hammering so fast it could burst from his chest. He slowly slides away from Tom, eyes scanning over his face and searching anxiously for any sign of discomfort. “What is it…? You alright? Tom, if I was hurting you, I--”

Tom gasps as he cuts Huck’s uneasy babbling short. “No, I just…I want all of you, inside, now.”

“Oh, Tom,” Huck gasps in relief, shoulders drooping and fingers releasing their tight grip from the sheets. “Why didn’t you just say so? I-I was afeard you--”

“Hush, I _am_ saying it now. C’mere, Hucky,” Tom lilts, gripping Huck’s shoulders tight and pulling him down so he can press one last quick kiss to his lips. “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

Huck nods, and it’s not until he moves back and _really_ sees Tom, sees all of him splayed out and flushed red and panting, that he realizes how much he wants to be closer to him, as close as possible. Huck grabs himself, and he’s so unbelievably hard at this point, so painfully turned on, he nearly shudders just at the touch. Spreading Tom apart, he positions himself so that the head of his cock is flush against his hole, and the sensation, though nothing but a mere tease, is purely divine. Tom rocks his hips impatiently, and that’s when the idea strikes Huck with astounding clarity.

He’ll have to reward himself later for exercising such unbelievable self restraint with what he is about to do.

He remains in place, the crown of his dick still prodding Tom’s ass, and takes both of his wrists, pinning each beside his head.

Tom gapes up at Huck in disbelief. “Huck, what’re you--”

“How…badly do you want it?” Huck tries, concealing his sheepishness decently well, considering how Tom reacts once the inquiry arises. He cannot believe what he is doing, but he still takes fiendish delight in it, whatever it may be.

“ _Oh!_ ” The realization creeps on Tom’s face immediately. “Oh, hang it all, Huck,” he cries miserably, squirming around fruitlessly beneath Huck. He hastily ducks down, begins pressing kisses up Tom’s neck until he’s nipping on the shell of his ear, and Tom suspects he may burst at the seams or even into flames any moment if Huck doesn’t just start touching him again already.

“Huck, you…you jackass, you--I already…told you I wanted it…didn’t I? _God!_ ” His back arches and his hips buck uselessly, searching for anything to find friction against, anything, and sadly finding nothing. His cock is still achingly hard, drooling little ropes of precome against his belly, and Huck still cannot believe he gets to see Tom like this, so beautifully at a loss for words, unable to think straight or get out a full sentence without having to choke back some obscene sound first. Huck speculates perhaps it feels just as good for Tom to hand the reins over to someone else every once in a while as it for Huck to take those reins, for the same crude, heart-racing reasons. Because it is so different from usual, so foreign and out of place, but he supposes that’s what makes it all feel so strangely amazing.

Taking feverish, guilty pleasure in the act, Huck then takes Tom’s wrists and pins them above his head with one of his hands, using the other to press down against Tom’s waist, grasp not tight enough to bruise, but still enough to spell out some possessiveness, his eagerness to touch him and savor in it.

“Don’t make any difference to me, does it? I just wanna hear it again, ‘s all.”

“You bastard,” Tom husks, eyes fluttering, and when Huck looks back, he notices the way Tom’s legs open up just a bit wider, the way his thighs are beginning to tremble, like he wants to accommodate more of Huck in and his body is finding ways to silently beg if his voice won’t. But Huck won’t let him win that easily.

“Calling me names won’t do you no favors, Tom,” Huck rejoins. His voice is somewhat soft, but his resolve remains watertight.

“Oh…Damn you! I-I can’t keep this up…Won’t…Won’t let a poor body even _touch_ himself…but once he gives you the word, all you wanna do is torture him!”

“‘s alright, go on and say it. I got you.” Huck gives it a second and allows Tom to fully exhaust himself before drawing his hand and brushing it lightly, teasingly up and down Tom’s side, his ribs and waist and hips. “C’mon.”

Finally, with one last tireless noise that sounds like a mix between a growl and a whimper, Tom caves in defeat and begins to push back weakly against every tender stroke and squeeze against his skin. “P…Please, Huck.” He sounds so desperate he could burst into tears of frustration any moment. “Please.”

Just like that, this forces the smallest of groans to slip past Huck’s lips before he can swallow it back down. He blinks rapidly. “P-Please…Please what?” he says, actually hearing the word aloud causing him to quiver with want, and--damn it all to hell and back--he sputtered there, just for a second, but that’s all it takes for Tom to quiet, weakly raise his head in curiosity and pull him back from the deep haze of his arousal. That’s when he realizes that undoubtedly Huck appears to be enjoying himself, but also to be equally as flustered. Tom’s still panting wildly, face still burning and eyes glazed over, so perhaps he is in no place to gloat, but he finds himself giggling like a fool before he can stop himself.

“Please,” he hums low and chuckles. “…Fuck me, sir.”

Huck releases Tom’s wrists and becomes silent, hating that even that turns him on, frowning in abashed disappointment. It’s only after a few agonizingly long seconds that Tom manages to suppress his laughter enough to speak. “C’mon, Hucky. I-I didn’t mean that, honest. It was…It was _real_ good. I swear it,” he assures, slightly hoarse from the shouting and the giggling. He pinches his fingers close together and moans, his voice thinly laden with the breathy remnants of laughter, “I reckon I was _this_ close to coming.”

“Well, you wasn’t supposed to yet,” Huck grumbles, and inexorably breaks out into a hesitant, crooked grin. “You wasn’t poking fun at me?”

“No, I wasn’t. I just…” Tom quiets. “I near lost my head, alright? Can you blame me? If anybody’s to blame for that, it’s you!”

“Tom.”

“What? That’s good!”

“Still.”

“I just weren’t thinking before I done it.”

“Oh, no, you think, alright. Think an awful lot. Think too much, sometimes, I reckon,” Huck whispers. Then, tilting his head up and examining Tom’s face, before Tom can rev up some one sided argument over what a silly thing it is to say someone could ever think too much, he mumbles, “…Was it good?”

“Look at me, ya leather head!” Tom shouts, amazed it isn’t obvious enough for Huck already. His head’s still reeling from how torturously hard he had been, how hard he still is. “What d’you think?”

“…Wanna keep at it?”

“Well, I sure would _hope_ so.”

“No more laughing,” snickers Huck quietly, in spite of himself.

“No more laughing,” repeats Tom as solemnly as he can, which isn’t too solemnly. Still, he makes an earnest attempt.

Huck scratches the back of his neck, shyly almost. “…You don’t gotta beg no more, Tom.”

Tom breaks his word and laughs just one more time, and then they’re up and running again.

Tom sinks back into the sheets again, inviting Huck into the gap between his legs. Huck grabs himself one last time and goes through the same motions as before: spreads Tom’s ass, head of his rigid cock pressing against the tight ring of muscles, slick with oil. Tom lays down so that he can hold his thighs back, and with Huck hovering above him, moments from plunging himself inside of Tom, at last, he feels like each second stretches on like an eternity. He just wants to be fucked already.

Then, Huck does it at last: he slowly pushes in. The heat enfolds him, contracts around him, squeezes him almost, and a soft groan escapes his lips. He swallows and opens his eyes to look down at Tom, whose breath has picked up and hand has drifted over his thigh to wrap around his cock again.

“Move,” Tom demands, and Huck complies without another thought.

He begins thrusting at a slow, even pace, as though he wants Tom to feel every inch of him as he drives in and out, again and again.

“Oh, shit,” Tom gasps, back raising in a small arch. He blinks, lips forming a perfect little O as each motion gradually sends tide after tide of pleasure undulating over his nerves, causes his chest to tighten and the blood to rush to his groin achingly fast. He continues stroking himself, using the oil from his fingers and the precome to slide over his taut, warm skin. “Huck…Huck, keep on going…!”

Their bodies rock together in a seamless rhythm, the bed groaning beneath their weight, skin sticky with sweat, muscles cramping with need. Huck’s breath is hot against Tom’s throat as he throws his head back, purposely leaving the vulnerable flesh exposed for Huck to nip on.

“ _Harder_ ,” Tom grunts, desperate.

Huck’s hips ram into Tom, and the sound their skin makes as they connect again and again spurs him on. They’re like pestle and mortar, the two of them, as they move in sync. Every time Huck slams into him, the slight jostle of Tom’s body allows him to fuck his hand with more force than the last.

Huck moans out Tom’s name, grabs his legs, spreads them open just a little wider and holds him in place like that. “I’m… getting close.” His pace is nearly tear-inducing, not too fast or hard, but not too slow either, and Tom doesn’t think he ever wants it to end. He can feel it in his toes, twisting his stomach into knots.

“Oh, Lord help me…” He continues to pump his shaft furiously, teeth gritted and brows twisted. He opens his mouth and struggles to speak, lips red and still slightly swollen from exchanging bruising kisses. “Mm…Shit, shit, I… _Ah!_ Huck, I-I… _Oh,_ I can’t…”

“Tom…I-I’m gonna come…”

Just hearing the words wrenches a hoarse shout from Tom’s throat. He shakes his head, as if he is having a difficult time comprehending how torturously aroused he is, how badly he wants to come himself, as if the pleasure he’s experiencing has him suspended in utter disbelief. He knows he’s getting close as well and he won’t last much longer.

“ _Huck_ …!”

Huck cannot possibly bear it any longer. “Oh, _Lord_ \--”

He does just as he says he would. He comes then, groaning, and he swears he sees stars as he feels Tom clench up around him, smooth muscles convulsing as though the sensation of Huck shooting inside him is purely amazing in a way that surely must be otherworldly. Tom shouts, body shivering beneath Huck’s fingers, and tries to shut his legs together so that the sheets don’t get stained.

He follows soon after, Huck still fucking him in stuttering thrusts, in the numbing aftershock of orgasm, his engorged cock still being worked by his own clenching fingers.

“Oh, God…Oh, _God_ …!” he pleads, repeating himself until his throat grows raw with the words.

“It’s alright, Tom, go on…I got you…”

Tom’s toes curl, and as he lets out one final yell that teeters on the edge of a sob, his cock sends thick ribbons of come spattering over his belly. His trembling legs involuntarily clench shut together again, and Huck finally releases his grip on them. His knee slowly slides in between, and he bends over to lazily press his mouth against Tom’s. The heady scent of sex hangs in the air. The room is mostly quiet again, with nothing to listen to but the soft pop of their lips parting and the gentle stirring of their breathing. When they are finished, Huck buries his face in Tom’s neck, Tom’s arms wrapped around his neck and holding him close.

They lie like that for a while, in the silence, before Huck raises his head again to look down at Tom, only to find his eyes shut and his breath even and slow.

“Hey, don’t you fall asleep just yet. Tom?” Huck pushes himself up and out of Tom’s slightly limp embrace. He places a gentle hand against Tom’s leg and grimaces when he notices the come still present on his skin. Persistent, he shakes him until his eyes peel open. Huck blinks. “You wanna…clean yourself up first?”

Tom sighs dismissively. “Don’t know with what.”

Huck shrugs and brings the sheet against Tom’s skin, wiping away any residue. He pays little mind to Tom coiling up beneath his touch in disgust.

“Oh, c’mon, Huck! Not the sheets…!” He drapes a hand over his eyes and scrunches his nose, groaning almost inaudibly.

“It’s gonna dry, Tom, and that’ll be even worse,” Huck reminds indelicately. Tom simply rolls his eyes, too tired to argue, luckily for Huck.

After Huck has finished and tossed the sheets towards the end of the bed, he simply stays where he’s at, sitting cross legged on the bed. He looks around the room once more and tries not to think about how small it feels. Already pondering why Huck hadn’t immediately returned to his side to fall asleep, Tom notices the distant expression on his face. He turns over on his side and tucks a hand beneath the pillow, silently musing to himself before deciding to speak.

“Huck.”

“What is it?”

“The next time I see you, I bet I’ll have a wife.”

“…I know it.”

“I might even have children.”

“I know that, too. If I’m remembering well ‘nuff, you told me the same thing the last time I seen you.”

“Listen, Huck.” There’s something firm and solemn about his tone that causes Huck to forget to swallow. “We’re closer to thirty than we ain’t. Maybe I can’t say the same for you, ‘cause you always been on the run, hain’t you? Never had nobody to tie you down in one place. But it just…it looks real peculiar I ain’t married yet, living on my own here. Wouldn’t expect you to really understand.”

Huck is momentarily quiet before turning his head away. “‘Course I wouldn’t.”

Tom looks up at him, silent, not having missed the wry undertones of Huck’s voice. He slowly crawls up and into Huck’s lap, hooks his ankles in the back, and rests his head on his shoulder. His arms twist up around his shoulder blades, fingers feeling the sinews of muscle dance beneath their touch. Huck seems to loosen up once Tom’s hands are grazing in light patterns over his skin, any last traces of indignation fading away.

“Don’t be angry with me,” Tom whispers softly, and presses his cheek into the crook of Huck’s neck. “I didn’t mean it like that. Before I lived on my own, I always had a woman to clean for me, cook for me…There was even a nice lady in that boarding house who did the wash for everybody…”

Huck chuckles, and raises a fistful of sheets. “And now you gotta clean up these damn things.”

“I reckon it was worth it,” Tom hums, and pulls back so that his face is inches from Huck’s. He raises Huck’s hand to his lips and brushes them against his knuckles. The corner of his mouth raises in a soft smile, vibrant with something other than intensity, eyes pensive as they stare. His hair is still mussed, the heavy afterglow of sex still on his face. “I _know_ you ain’t thinking about leaving tonight.”

Huck scratches the back of his head and shrugs. He leans back, palms lying flat against the bedding, crossed legs shuffling beneath Tom’s weight. “Not too late, if it’d be a bother. You want me to stay?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tom croons, attentively staring at each boxy finger he fans out across his own hand. “We’re both tired. I got my own place now, why wouldn’t I let you sleep in it?”

Huck just nods, a fluttering in his chest. With this, they both retreat to the end of the bed and crawl beneath the sheets, purely exhausted. Huck finds himself laying atop Tom’s chest, hair fanning out over his skin as his eyes close. Tom’s hand slips over his head and his fingers lace through his hair. Together, they rest like this, silent, before Tom speaks up in a weary voice.

“You can play with Ginger tomorrow, alright?”

Huck nods, having almost nodded off.

“I’ll make us flapjacks in the morning. I make damn good flapjacks.”

“Really?”

“Before I left St. Petersburg, Aunt Polly, she taught me how to make ‘em.”

“Is your Aunt Polly still around?”

“Damn near gone blind,” Tom chuckles, “but it’s so. Still alive and kickin’. She sends me letters most every month.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“…I can make us some coffee too, some bacon.”

Huck knows that Tom is trying to play homemaker because he thinks Huck never takes care of himself. He doesn’t really mind. “Alright, Tom.”

“And we’ll ride into town tomorrow. I can show you around, take you to the shops. They’re all just grand.”

“…Your neck’s a mess of bruises now, Tom. I ain’t sure that’s such a good idea.”

“…Oh, hush, you, and go to sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had only planned on dropping this here before orphaning the account.  
> As disorienting as all the emotions I tried to cram into this fic is, I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for reading.


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